


Cards on the Table

by WichitaRed



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WichitaRed/pseuds/WichitaRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during their outlaw days and Heyes is dealing with an issue he has never faced before and in running from it is only reminded all the more why he should never give up on Kid being there for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cards on the Table

Cards on the Table  
By Wichita Red

“Full, straight, three-of-a-kind, pair, pair.” The whispered words stole out into the room, invading the quiet shadows, causing Kid to shift on the couch. Hearing the cards start to chatter once more, he bolted up; throwing his hat that had been tipped over his face to the floor. “Damn it! Give it a rest.” 

A frown tugged at the corner of Heyes’ mouth as he doggedly went on laying cards out in neat rows across the table.

“You’ve been at it for hours.” Curry stretched and warbled on through a yawn, “I can’t believe you ain’t worn the ink off’em by now.” Walking over, his shadow fell across the table. Heyes ignored him concentrating on his personal version of solitaire. Shaking his head, Kid laid a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, “I would’ve done the same thing.” 

Heyes picked out five cards, fanning them on the tabletop into a pat poker hand.

“You hear me?” 

Selecting five more cards, Heyes nodded, “You might’ve done the same. You might not have.” 

Plopping down in the opposite chair, Kid said, “Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Scrubbing at his curls, Kid quietly said, “I think you should tell me about it.”

“Don’t need to. The boys already did.” 

Knowing his partner better then he knew himself most days; Kid did not, for one-second trust, the peaceful look of innocence Heyes gave him when he said this. His cousin was hurting. He knew he was. Frowning deeply, Kid shook his head and, with the same speed that had made him the fastest gunman in the West, he snagged the cards from Heyes as he once more set to shuffling them. A few pasteboards escaped, falling to the tabletop, but the majority flew across the room in a spectacular arc. 

“I am not picking those up.” Heyes said, getting to his feet.

“Neither am I!” 

Heyes’ dark brows dropped; his expression narrowing. 

“Get as angry as you like. It don’t bother me none.” 

“Damnation, why can’t you leave me be?!” Heyes hollered, Kicking his chair, sending it clattering across the floor and shoving his hands in his pockets, he began to pace. 

Kid’s blue eyes scanned the comfortable cabin he and Heyes shared; distinctly avoiding making any eye contact with his cousin.

“I’m the leader. I don’t have to talk if I don’t want to.”

Leaning against the front door, Kid crossed his arms snorting, “Might as well add in… that you’re the oldest too – oh yeah, and the one who does all the thinking.”

Heyes shot him a hard look.

“Hmpf-- never thought you being silent would wear on me.” He teased and, hearing a grumbled curse, broke into a full-throated laugh. The laugh earned him a snarl and another hard look. “What…? All you’ve told me since we got back was how fine you are. But we both know that ain’t exactly the truth. Well, I ain’t moving from this door till you start talking; ‘cause truth is, I’m damn tired of your silence.” 

The look Heyes sent his way made Kid swallow wondering if he had selected the correct tactic; but, after a few more turns about the room, his cousin threw up his hands. 

“Fine! How do you deal with it?”

The smile slipped from Kid along with a rasping sigh, “I don’t.”

Sucking at his cheeks and looking down, Heyes squatted. Picking up the four of clubs from the floor, he began fiddling with it. “You seem to get over it quickly. Doesn’t it bother you?”

Kid’s eyes went cold, “You know it does!” He uncrossed his arms hitching his thumbs in his holster belt. “My Pa told me, a man only has one chance to make a choice. Then it’s a part of him forever. It’s how a man deals with the outcome that defines him. He said, I was certain to make bad decisions and I couldn’t let’em destroy me when I’d still have plenty of good choices left to redeem myself. Heyes, sometimes it really is more difficult than others but when I strapped this on—“ his hand caressed the butt of his Colt--, “I knew I’d wind up shooting, hell, occasionally, even killing so I made my peace with my choice to be a gunslinger before I ever made a name as one.”

Heyes sighed deeply; dropping the card to rub at the back of his neck. “I understood the stakes when we went down this road. It’s just I’ve made it this far without---” He scrubbed harder bowing his head. 

“---Killing someone.” Kid finished for him. 

The dark head bobbed. 

Kid closed his eyes, recalling the faces of men who had died by his hand, “Wish I’d been there for you.”

Hannibal Heyes shot up, his whole being galvanized, “No!” he shouted returning to pacing. He had already put enough blood on Kid’s hands.’

Striding over, Kid grabbed his cousin’s shoulder spinning him to a stop, “You always go on how I’ll feel better if I talk it out.” A shy smile grew, “And- most times you’re right.”

A dark eyebrow arched, “Was that you actually saying I’m right?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” Kid growled, his false gruffness erupting into a spectacular smile. “Want some coffee?”

“Only if I make it.”

Kid Curry’s smile twisted into a grimace. 

“Add some water to yours.” Heyes replied. “Don’t know why you like it so weak anyhows.”

“I don’t drink it weak! I just don’t think it needs to be strong enough to fight back is all.”

Heyes shook his head; already knocking a sixth heaping scoop into the blue-spotted enamel pot- which was nearly a permanent fixture atop the squat Franklin stove. Setting the lid snugly in place, he tossed a couple of small logs through the stove’s door. Red sparks snapped in the black iron box like Fourth of July celebratory fireworks and, seeing the mini explosions, he thought of Kyle’s glee for dynamite. Thinking of Kyle brought him back to the train robbery and sucking once on his lower lip he began talking, “I already had the first number from the safe by the time Kyle crawled up into the car. Right away, he began hopping about like a Jenny in heat, telling me how he was ready to blow the door clean off as soon as I gave the go ahead. You recall how cold the wind was that day with that Blue Northerner blowing in off Rockies?”

“Uh-Huh.” Kid nodded, grabbing two coffee cups from the cupboard. 

“Well, it felt like a blade slipping up my back so I hollered, ‘Your Mother raise you in a three-sided shed? Shut the damn door!’“

“Did he?”

“Yes.” Heyes grinned smugly. “He stopped jabbering at me, too. Honestly, I don’t know why he was talking at all. All of you know I need silence to hear the tumblers. But, Kid, as I worked, I could feel him standing right behind me.” Heyes sucked at his front teeth. “Longer he stood there, the more I knew he had something to say so finally I gave in and turned around and he says, as serious as I’ve ever heard Kyle, ‘My Mama raised me in a nice, clean home.’“

Kid snorted.

“Exactly. I can still see him standing there, chaw staining the stubble of his chin, weeks past a bath, and his pants coated in mud.”

“Now, I know you couldn’t miss out on an opening like that.”

A one-sided grin crept across Hannibal Heyes’ face, “You’re right, I told him, -I wouldn’t have guessed it by any outward show-. But, Kid, I must have hit a lever in him because he swelled up and barked at me, ‘If’n we’s going by appearances then your Mama must have been a crook!’

Kid’s eyes flew wide, “Kyle!?”

“Uh-huh Kyle.” He replied with a laugh and Kid saw a bit of spark returning to his cousin’s eyes as Heyes walked by to drop into his favorite over-stuffed chair. 

Removing the bubbling coffee from the flame, he filled each cup, handing one to Heyes.

“Thank you,” Heyes said, taking the heavy porcelain cup, nestling it between his palms. 

“Well, what’d you say?” Kid asked, settling into the couch and kicking one boot heel out across the corner of the coffee table. 

Heyes eyed him and seeing the boot was clean, shook his head not up to admonishing Kid for this pet peeve yet again, “Well, I reared up; y’know how I feel about anyone saying a word against my Ma, but then what he said sunk in and all I could do was laugh.”

“Bet that confused him.” 

“It did. He set to stammering on an apology.” A playful smile covered Heyes’ face now. “But, instead of tearing into him, I patted him on the shoulder saying, ‘Everything I am, I learned from her, right down to mothering a nest of outlaws.’ Before I could get him to realize I was teasing. Preacher, slammed the mail car door open yelling I better come quick as Eli wasn’t following protocol.”

“Still don’t know why he didn’t come get me.” 

“You were covering the engineer and fireman.”

“Could have handled it himself.” 

“Hell, what good is it to have a leader if you can’t come get him when difficulties arise?”

“Still--.”

“Still nothing!” Heyes snapped, talking over Kid, “Preacher did right.” Taking a long drink of his coffee, he kept his eyes on Kid until at last Kid nodded, taking a drink himself. “Anyways by then, I knew there wasn’t any way; I was going to finesse that little Brooker into opening so I told Kyle it was all his. I told Preacher to spread the word my dynamite man was going to work and to clear him a path.”

Heyes leaned forward and then suddenly stood. Going to the stove, he poured himself another cup, lifting the pot toward Kid.

“Nah, this will do me till Tuesday.”

Retaking his seat, Heyes said “Moment I climbed up on the last passenger car, I could see the problem.” His mouth turned down sharply. 

“Did you see Hank? He was supposed to be with Eli.”

“Oh, he was - by the steps - straight away he began telling me how he tried to stop him.”

“Hmmm.” 

“Don’t worry ‘bout Hank.” Heyes looked down into his cup and took a scalding gulp. “I couldn’t believe Eli was robbing passengers. I have firm rules against such low, miscreant deeds.”

“Miscreant?”

“Villainous.”

“You gotta stop reading that Shakespeare fella or at least break off using his words on me.”

Heyes crooked a grin and nodded, “Anyways, Eli was at the opposite end of the car when I stepped in. He was brandishing his gun and hollering at the folks to drop their goods into the sack passing around. When he saw me, he looked mighty surprised.”

“Bet he did.”

“I asked him, what he thought he was doing. He said, ‘he didn’t feel the shares were being split evenly so he figured he’d make up the difference.’ Kid, I have to tell you I sure didn’t like how all those passengers were looking at him . . . and I. Reminded me, of that squirrely pie-bald mare we got with last spring’s herd, the one who was frightened of everything including her own shadow.”

A long sigh escaped from Kid as he shook his head. 

“I explained to Eli, this wasn’t the way the Devil’s Hole Gang did things and, if he didn’t like the way things were done, it was fine by me if he rode out. He smiled saying, ‘Don’t mind if I do.’ So I told him at least we were in agreement and to step out the door behind him and high tail it. Grabbing that sack he said, -he didn’t need my leave.- I granted him that, but told him he wasn’t leaving with those nice peoples belongings.” Heyes looked to the far wall, his eyes becoming unfocused like he was seeing it all again. 

Kid left him be. After a time he shifted, scraping his boot heel across the corner of the coffee table. 

Heyes turned a frown on him and Kid grinned; re-crossing his legs until only his calves rested across the corner of the table. 

“Eli, he waggled his gun at me saying, I looked awful light without you in my hip pocket.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, kinda put a kink in my tail. So I told him he best holster his weapon, set the sack down, and get! He dropped the gun in his holster but squared up, spitting on the floor, saying, ‘You don’t spook me none’. I could feel the weight of my Schofield at my side and heard myself saying, ‘Eli, seems that’s something else we have in common!’”

‘Damn Heyes, you all but called him out.’ Curry thought sitting up straight and dropping his boots to the floor. 

“He glared at me and I asked him, how good he thought he was because I knew how good I was. About that time, the passengers began pushing themselves against the windows like Moses parting the sea.

“And Eli?”

“He looked hard at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing up down like flotsam and Kid, that was when I pushed him . . . asked him if he’d come to a verdict yet?” 

Kid frowned deeply.

“I knew I shouldn’t have pushed him but he had me madder than a slapped hornet. He needed to know I was in charge even when you weren’t there backing me.”

“Heyes I get that. But the passengers. . . that car was nearly full.”

“I know. I realized right quick if he chose to draw, I was going to have to do him a serious injury, so he wouldn’t be able to get off extra stray shots. Then I saw it, the decision in his eyes and I drew, aiming for his gun shoulder. But---” 

“Always say your aim’s a bit low when you rush it.”

“This ain’t a joke, Kid! I killed him!”

“I ain’t joking. I’ve been telling you the same thing for years. Knew you’d find out one day. I was right and you did.”

Heyes stood, glared at his cousin, and throwing his cup across the room he stormed out the front door. 

Settling back into the sofa, Kid nursed the remainder of his coffee. Rising slowly, he went to retrieve Heyes’ broken cup and set it remnants on the table next to a king of spades lying there, he picke up the card hissing, “Damn your temper Heyes!” Dropping the crumpled up card, he went out the front door in time to see his cousin ride out.

“Where’s he going?” Kyle asked.

“Burning off some steam.” 

Kyle spit, watching Heyes’ sorrel disappear down the trail leading out. “Don’t he traditionally go down to the crick for that?”

Kid looked at Kyle and then went back inside. Staring round at the empty cabin, he went to his room for his gun cleaning supplies thinking, ‘I could have told Kyle, what’s it matter where he goes, isn’t it tradition enough he has to storm off like a little kid whenever he’s mad?’ Coming back out to the table, Curry swiped the remaining cards and cup to the floor and sat down breaking his Colt apart. 

* * * * * * *

At Deadman’s Point, Heyes’ sorrel thundered by Haig and Kane on look out duty without even a, ‘see ya later guys’ wave. After a spell, he eased the horse down, angling into the woods. As the trees thickened he pulled the animal to a slow walk. Exhaling deeply, he petted the gelding and leaned back, looking up into the sun-dappled canopy. He exhaled again, urged the gelding on, and ducked under low hanging limbs, steering towards the river. He slowly became aware that, the birds had stopped singing. Whoaing the gelding, he listened closer, a large doe came charging at them, her eyes huge with fear, and she veered just missing them. “My God!” Heyes hollered, the horse snorting loudly, rearing. 

Leaning forward, a smile plastered across his face he settled the animal, “It’s alright you big coward.” The gelding tossed its head and the crack of a rifle echoed across the woods. Heyes looked in the direction the deer had fled, “Sounds like someone just got dinner.” Feeling as if a bee stung him, he looked at his left shoulder surprised to see a rose blossoming and expanding across his shirt. “What the hell?” Raising his left arm for a better look, white hot bolts of pain rocketed from his shoulder and realization dawned, “I’m hit”.

Throwing his right leg; over the gelding’s neck he leapt from the saddle as a second shot splatted into the tree next to where he had been. A grunt of agony leapt from him as he came in contact with the ground. His shoulder was bleeding freely and felt like someone was trying to burn it off from the inside out. Clambering to his feet into a squat, he briefly thought, ‘it feels like warm molasses’ as blood ran down his chest. Another bullet thwacked into a tree next to his head sending woody shrapnel peppering Heyes and his horse. Squealing, the animal reared again and, using his good arm, he threw the split rein at the gelding, hissing at it so it spun; taking the trail out like a cougar was riding on its haunches. 

Tugging his bandana from his neck, Heyes shoved it between his shirt and the wound. Another shot sang out, creasing the top of his shoulder. “Damn!” he howled. Dropping to his knees and crawling forward on his good arm, he glanced up toward the Devil’s Hole and back where the bullets were arriving from. ‘Who the hell is taking pot shots at me?’ Throwing himself behind a large tree, gasping for air, he looked up the mountain hoping to hear some of his gang approaching. Looking about, he spied a jumble of boulders across a small clearing. A bullet clipping his tree made his decision for him even as the spent slug buried itself in the ground far too near his right knee. Pulling his Schofield, he took a breath, and began firing at the rifleman as he made the dash. 

Skidding in behind the boulders, he leaned his back against them. He could feel the thrumming throb of his wounds and the steady flow of blood streaming from them. Taking a shuddering breath, he began to set to pushing bullets from his belt, his left fingers fumbling in response to the simple task. Squatting, he stuck his pistol under his left arm and began popping bullets from his belt with his right hand, creating a golden pile on the ground. Snapping the Schofield open, he braced it once more under his left arm and reloaded it. He could hear someone moving, closing in. Sticking his arm around the boulder, he fired blindly. “Who the hell is out there?”

“Just someone who knows how important a true pal is, and, Heyes, you put mine six-foot under.”

Heyes leaned his sweaty face against the rough, cool rock, “That wasn’t my plan, Frank.”

“Plan or not you killed him and I aim to do the same to you. Really, I wanted the Kid. Let you feel as alone as I do. But I couldn’t rightly figure how to catch Kid off his guard. He is a hell of a man, when it comes to watching his back trail; yours too for that matter. Imagine my joy when I saw you out in the open all by your lonesome.”

“Frank I see your position, I do. Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same if our boots were reversed. But Eli didn’t give me any clear options. I warned him Frank. Hell Hank and Preacher warned him too.”

A bullet hit the boulder near Heyes, granite exploding into the air, burrowing into the flesh of his face and neck. Leaping back, Heyes fired at the puff of smoke drifting from the heavy foliage until his pistol clicked on empty cartridges. Not one leaf fluttered aimlessly down. He growled knowing Frank was out of range. “How can we patch this up?” Heyes called out, using his warmest voice as he palmed just as warm blood from his eyes. 

“Already told you, Heyes, with either you or Curry dead; seems only fair to send one of you along to keep Eli company.”

“Frank,” Heyes pushed himself further back along the boulder, “Kid and the boys will be here soon, they’ve surely heard all our noise.”

“Probably.”

Leaning forward, Heyes swept up a handful of cartridges only to have a bullet narrowly miss his hand. “Damn it Frank! I’m partial to my fingers, knock that crap off!”

Laughter rose up, “Gotta love ya, Heyes, ya still think you’re in charge.” The rifle cracked again, pegging Heyes in his already wounded shoulder and bringing forth a choked scream as he fought to not let Frank know how poorly he was doing. Swallowing hard, Heyes dark eyes circled round and saw from the gunpowder smoke that Frank, too, was circling round. ‘He’s going to have me trapped like a cat in a box.’, he thought, pumping new loads into his Schofield’s cylinders. ‘Where are you Kid?’ He could feel blood pooling along his holster’s belt line and wondered how much blood he had lost. He was not a doctor but he had tended enough wounds to know the less blood lost the better the survival rate. Hearing a branch crack –too near, his head whipped up and seeing a flash of a blue, he snapped the Schofield closed, firing leadingly along the ridge. His effort brought forth another shot that creased across the forearm of his gun hand causing him to drop the Schofield. Lunging forward, he grabbed the pistol despite the lancers of pain running out from the angry groove. 

“Got you good and trapped Heyes. Your smart mouth ain’t gonna get you free. Question I keep asking myself is, should I kill ya all at once or piece by piece so ya bleed out?”

Heyes pushed himself to his feet, leaving a red smear up the boulder even as blood ran from his right hand to rivulet down the Schofield and drip from its barrel into the white gravel. Slowly raising the pistol, knowing there were only two rounds left in it, Heyes tracked the direction of Frank’s voice and firing, heard the man jerk. He wasn’t sure if he’d hit him, the foliage was too thick to take actual aim but at least he’d made him jump. 

A rifle shot barked and Heyes fell back, his right leg crumpling as a bullet buried itself in his thigh. Snarling, Heyes straightened the leg and, pushing hard against the boulder at his back, he stood rigid eyeing the tree line, “Eli and I stood up to each other as men, and you ain’t being anything more than a dry-gulching bastard, Frank. Your partner would be ashamed to know you.”

Frank stepped out. He looked ten pounds lighter then when Heyes had seen him last and like he’d been on a drunk bender the whole time. “I just want you to hurt, Heyes.”

“Well, you’ve accomplished your goal.”

“No I ain’t, not fully, I ain’t.” He shifted, raising the barrel of his Winchester, lining it up with Heyes’ chest. 

“Hey!”

Frank spun. Heyes’ gun whipped up; fire belching from the Schofield to be echoed by another gun, followed by the boom of the rifle, then Frank tumbling and rolling down the embankment like a scarecrow in the wind. Staring at his former gang member as blood trickled from his mouth, bubbling until his gurgled breaths ceased, Heyes sunk to the ground somewhat aware of hearing his name being hollered as members of the Devil’s Hole emerged from tree line. But only one voice stood out. It was his cousin’s and, looking up he saw Kid jumping down the hillside, his pistol still clutched in his hand. Wearily, Heyes smiled and then Kid was at his side holstering his Colt, his blue eyes dark with anger. 

Heyes breathed out heavily, “I’m alright, Kid.”

Looking from the bloody streaks on his cousin’s face, neck, his drenched left side, and the crimson pool forming under his right leg, Kid grunted, “Like hell you are.” Jerking his bandana off, he tied it around the leaking thigh. 

Grimacing at the pressure, Heyes looked around at his gang and back at his cousin, “About gave up.”

Kid looked up sharply, “You appeared pretty resolute to me when we got here.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t letting him kill me while I lay curled on the ground like an abused dog but, I’d about given up on ever seeing you again.”

Kid shook his hatless head, his dark-blond curls catching the sunlight, reminding Heyes of when they were much lighter and the pair of them was much younger. “How many hard trails we rode down, Kid?”

“What?”

“That’s what Frank had said. Eli was his pal, and they’d rode many a hard trail.”

“So have we. Eli was a fool to draw against you.”

Heyes dark eyes strayed to Frank’s face, the blood looking like dried tobacco spittle where it had slid down his chin. 

“Eli brought this down on both of them.” Kid said standing. “Let’s get you up to the cabin.”

Heyes arched an eyebrow, looking up at his cousin. 

“Can you stand?”

“With your help.”

“Always happy too.”

Leaning heavily on Curry’s shoulder, Heyes hobbled to his sorrel Kyle had caught up. Once up in the saddle with Kid sitting behind him Heyes looked again to Frank. All the color had faded from him and he could see two separate bullet holes in the man. 

Kid followed his cousin’s gaze, seeing the same thing. “Ain’t no way I was going to let him keep shootin’ you up like a carnival piñata.”


End file.
